


one fine day (but not really)

by Greet



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Food Poisoning, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Light Angst, Minghao is Jeonghan's baby, Platonic Relationships, Seungcheol is bad at feelings, Sick Minghao, Sick Xu Ming Hao, Sickfic, Soft Xu Ming Hao | The8, Vomiting, Xu Ming Hao | The8-centric, fair warning, mom jeonghan, this is gross
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 14:23:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14875436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greet/pseuds/Greet
Summary: Minghao gets food poisoning during their One Fine Day 'vacation', leaving Jeonghan to fret over him.





	one fine day (but not really)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mainvocalrocky (infinityxu)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinityxu/gifts).



> This fic is based during Seventeen's first appearance on the show One Fine Day;   
> basically what you need to know about is the boys thought they were being gifted a nice vacation, but they ended up stranded on this island and they were forced to pack their belongings in a tiny plastic bag that was meant to last them a few days. The staff were cruel and always took their food away (as a joke) and the boys had to fish for most of their meals most days. 
> 
> hope you enjoy <3 sorry minghao

As Minghao knelt by their makeshift dishpit, running cold water over their endless stacks of dishes from dinner, he noticed his stomach starting to churn and seize up. He noticed his stomach misbehaving earlier that day when he tidied up the members’ bedding, waiting for dinner to be ready. It wasn’t painful at first, simply upset rumbles that sounded out from beneath his winter coat. He was grateful no one was in the room with him in that moment as his stomach started doing somersaults and cheering for itself,  his intestines gurgling and demanding his attention. 

 

He didn’t touch a lot of food at dinner, instead taking some of the rice they managed to earn and avoiding the fish. The smell made him a little nauseous, but he assumed it was because he ate practically nothing other than fish the past two days. He thought maybe his body was just getting sick of it. However, after dinner ended, the rumbling returned with a vengeance, accompanied by a slight twinge of discomfort that curled in his lower left abdomen. As he bent over to reach for another stack of dishes, his stomach let out a hearty call. Mingyu, who was knelt beside him as they cleaned, nudged him on the shoulder and laughed.

 

“You’re still hungry, Hao? We just ate a feast,” he said, his tone lighthearted as he scrubbed at the pans they cooked their fish in.  His stomach seemed to scowl at the comment, wanting to join in on the conversation, but Minghao just pressed one gloved hand to his abdomen, silently begging for it to shut up. He fought the heat rushing to the apples of his cheeks.

  
“It’s hard to split between thirteen boys,” Minghao said, hoping his growing physical discomfort wasn’t evident on his face. He took a deep breath. 

 

The knot in his lower left side grew tighter by the second, his shoulders tensing as even a shallow inhale sent a sharp ripple up his torso. He leaned back on his heels, slowly stretching his arms up over his head to try and work out the cramp. It must’ve just been from kneeling over for so long, his body aching to move out of the position. 

 

It hurt, he couldn’t deny it. His entire left side seized up, the sharp pain spreading through his abdomen to an intense ache before it disappeared, leaving his torso dully throbbing. He winched, settling back down over the dishes as he focused on finishing the last stack. After he finished, he could leave Mingyu with the rice pot (he knew the latter wouldn’t mind), and crawl into bed. 

 

Except, he realized, he couldn’t. The cameras were always rolling, especially with the staff throwing them as many random curveballs and tasks as they were. He was sure they’d need to play around before heading to bed, giving the fans the fun, loving content they deserved. Normally Minghao wouldn’t complain- he loved goofing off with the members and showing off his variety, but in this moment all he wanted was to  _ lie down.  _ The cramp in his left side was returning with a vengeance with each breath he took, and he knew Mingyu would be suspicious if he stretched it out again. 

 

It felt like the dishes took years to complete, but Minghao finally finished off his stack and set his gloves aside. Normally, he’d offer to help Mingyu finish his dishes, but he was feeling particularly selfish as he rushed inside to answer his stomach’s call. His intestines grumbled as a soft, wet hiccup caught in his throat. He was having some serious gas, the tight, sharp pains in his side spreading into multiple places as he walked inside, discarding his large coat. If he could just make it to the bathroom without grasping anyone’s attention, he’d be okay. He slipped a hand under his sweater to feel at his abdomen, scowling to find it hot and hard under his fingers. It suddenly felt entirely too hot to be wearing such a thick sweater inside, but he’d have to worry about that later.

 

He stepped inside the main room where Jeonghan and Joshua were curled up in their bedding, Joshua’s head resting against Jeonghan’s shoulder. Joshua was fast asleep, his arm draped across Jeonghan’s chest and fingers weakly curled into the fabric of his shirt. Jeonghan was spacing out, staring across the room as he carded his fingers through Joshua’s hair, humming to himself as if there wasn’t a camera mounted on the wall pointing right at him.

 

Minghao swallowed his nerves and stepped over them, headed for the bathroom with light feet. The last thing he wanted was to invoke Joshua and Jeonghan’s mother-hen instincts. It was embarrassing enough trying to hide his hyperactive stomach from Mingyu, one of his best friends, but trying to deal with it in front of his hyungs would be a whole other story. 

 

Before he could cross the threshold, however, Minghao heard his name. He froze, glancing over his shoulder to see Jeonghan looking at him, eyes curious but overall indifferent. “You finished the dishes?” the elder asked, his fingers rhythmically pulling through Joshua’s bangs, the latter sleeping soundly against his chest.

 

“Yeah,” he choked, slipping his hand out from under his sweater and reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck. He felt as if his stomach was dropping further and further into his gut, the nauseating pressure making his head spin uncontrollably. He felt his stomach seize up, the cramp rippling throughout his entire system with such force that he nearly doubled over, sweat overtaking his brow. He  _ needed  _ to get out of this. “Gyu just has a couple left…”

 

“Okay,” Jeonghan mumbled, glancing at the camera before adverting his attention back down to Joshua, who stirred with a slight mumble. Minghao took advantage of the distraction and slipped from the room. He picked up the pace, now panting through the pain that was starting to rise as his lower abdomen cramped up. Finally, he reached the door and shut it firmly behind him, twisting the lock. He turned on the sink, hoping the water running would cover up any unwanted noise.

 

He spent the next ten minutes hunched over on the toilet, kneeling forward until his knees almost touched his chest, biting on his sweater sleeve as he struggled to force through the pain. His entire digestive tract was seizing and throwing a fit, the cramps becoming increasingly painful with each second. His entire body started to ache from behind hunched over in such a position, and he could hear sharp rapping on the wooden door. He jolted forward, clamping a hand over his mouth as he held his breath.

 

“Hao, you okay in there?” It was Mingyu, his voice sounding chipper and playful. “We’re going to play a game, the directors need you out here.”

 

Minghao swallowed the sickly feeling in his mouth. “Yeah, I’ll…” he paused a moment to catch his breath and wipe at the sweat that seemed to be overtaking his forehead. “I’ll be right out. Gimme a minute.”

 

Through the running water, he heard Mingyu’s footfalls grow distant, and Minghao dropped his head into his hands, panting. He felt slightly better now that he had gone, but his stomach throbbed and ached, and the ebbing nausea never truly went away. He pulled himself up to flush the toilet, and he stumbled over to the sink, scrubbing his hands clean. He spared a glance at himself in the mirror. His face was ashen, the apples of his cheeks a light pink that showed the suffocating heat he felt eating him up from the inside. Eyes glossy with unshed tears of pain, Minghao cursed and dabbed at his face with a damp towel. He couldn’t come out of the bathroom looking so disheveled. Not only would it worry the others, but it could affect their filming and the fans might figure out something was off. 

 

It wasn’t that he didn’t like the filming. He didn’t mind the cameras pointed at them, even in a living space. He knew it was just a way for Seventeen to connect with the fans, and they really enjoyed seeing their shenanigans. But right now, Minghao just wanted to disappear. But he also couldn’t let down his fans and brothers by not being present.

 

It was horribly embarrassing, really, the way his stomach decided to betray him in such a way, cast aside on an island with his brothers and the lack of the comforts of his own room. Hopefully, he pondered, it would just be that first wave and his stomach would settle. It would settle, and he’d play around with the boys, and everything would be fine. The last thing Minghao needed was to panic and work himself up over nothing more than an upset stomach. 

 

When he finally emerged from the bathroom, arms protectively crossed over his gut, the twelve others were gathered in the main sleeping area, the floor between them taken up by playing cards. Minghao wasn’t really invested in playing, but he knew he could at least be present. He stepped up, squeezing himself into the only open spot between Jeonghan and Seungkwan. As soon as he sat, Seungkwan draped an arm around his shoulders as if it was second nature, drumming his fingers on his shoulder as he listened to Seungcheol explain the rules from across the circle. Minghao didn’t pay much attention, his shoulders hunched forward as he focused on Seungkwan’s fingertips on his bicep in an attempt to distract himself from the growing discomfort in his gut.

 

He figured with twelve other boys to fill the silence, his own withdrawal wouldn’t be very noticable. He lazily threw a few playing cards down, unsure whether what he played was good or bad, and he didn’t care enough to evaluate the others’ reactions to figure it out. Seungkwan was loud and boisterous beside him, his arm coming away from his shoulders to slam his cards down as he whined about someone cheating. Minghao wanted the laugh- the singer was always bright and enjoyable to be around, but he simply couldn’t get out of his own head. 

 

He figured that after going to the restroom that he’d be feeling better, but it only seemed to be on a rapid decline. Luckily the voices of the members were enough to cover the insistent groaning of his gut, but he couldn’t ignore the discomfort anymore. Wet hiccups bubbled up in his chest, leaving a bile-like taste in his mouth that lingered for longer than he anticipated. He left the circle twice- the first time to grab a glass of water that he drank about half of before he figured he couldn’t stomach any more. He left the water sitting behind him, his stomach noisier than before after ingesting the little bit that he had. The second time he left was to search for medicine in the kitchen (tylenol, acid reducer, anything), but he came back empty handed. This was a castaway mission after all, and he realized he wouldn’t get his hands on any medicine unless he directly asked the staff. But no, he was much too embarrassed to do that.

 

When he returned, Jeonghan gave him a peculiar, concerned glance. The elder put a hand on the small of his back, the attention away from them as Chan contemplated his next move on the other side of their circle. “Are you okay?” the elder mumbled in ear, rubbing lazy circles against his back. 

 

Minghao didn’t look him in the eye but gave a curt nod anyway. The last thing he wanted was Eomma Jeonghan on his back, especially when sitting in a circle with little attention on him was already making him feel like he was being suffocated. The cramps in his stomach came and went, his body tensing with each new wave as he took deep breaths through his nose, trying to calm himself down. He didn’t want the others to worry- especially Jeonghan- and with something was gross as his digestive system flashing all exit signs, he didn’t want anyone else involved. 

  
“I’m fine,” he whispered to Jeonghan managing a shaky smile. “I think I just ate too much.”   
  
Jeonghan smiled and reached up to ruffle Minghao’s hair. “Good,” he teased, turning his attention back to his cards as Joshua to his left started getting frustrated with a new rule Hansol was trying to throw into the mix of the already complicated game. The game carried on for what felt like eons, Minghao hyper-aware of the cameras mounted on the wall glaring at them. 

 

As rest of the members wrapped up, declaring Soonyoung the winner of their game, Minghao’s stomach picked that moment to act up, his intestines bubbling and the hiccups catching in his throat. He knew something was wrong- it wasn’t overeating as he truly hadn’t had more than half a bowl of rice at dinner, it must’ve been something more than that- perhaps a stomach bug. 

 

If that was the case, he was putting all the others members at risk being around them, and the last thing he wanted was for them to be sick because he was being careless. But it also meant that it was a twelve or twenty-four hour bug, and if he went to sleep it would (hopefully) be gone by the time he woke up. With that in mind, he disposed of his practically untouched water glass in the kitchen before retreating to the second room where his bedding was set up. He didn’t want to risk talking to the others, so he didn’t bother brushing his teeth or getting ready for bed with the rest of them, instead slipping beneath his covers and curling up on his side. He caged his arms around his gut, squeezing his eyes shut and begging for the constant burning in his throat to subside.

 

It was a dumb thing to assume that his silence would go unnoticed among the members. Jeonghan noticed the lack of attention he paid during the game, how he’d put cards down onto the stack that made it obvious the latter had absolutely no idea what the rules were. Usually, Minghao was one of the most competitive of them, taking even a simple card game to extremes if it meant he was in danger of losing. He never said no to challenge, and Jeonghan was sure the kid could make Go-Fish an extreme sport if he put his mind to it. So to see him sitting sandwiched between him and Seungkwan, shoulders hunched and face pale, Jeonghan was sure something was off, but couldn’t muster the courage to call Minghao out on it. The younger always got defensive at the prospect of someone worrying about him, and the feeling was even more heightened now that the cameras were on them and their situation was a lot more stressful than sitting at the dorms.

 

It left Jeonghan feeling anxious, but as the latter disappeared into his room, he assumed that rest was all that Minghao needed. Jeonghan settled himself into bed, glancing at the camera to his left and wishing it goodnight before burying himself under the blanket. Seungcheol laid down beside him, still joking around with Jihoon who followed him out of the kitchen, hair askew. 

 

“Goodnight, hyungs,” Jihoon called as he waved at the two, moving into the next room where Minghao was the first to fall asleep.

 

It was late- just a few minutes past midnight if the clock on the wall was correct- and Jihoon wasn’t feeling too tired. He sat down on his bedding that was set up next to Minghao. He didn’t pay the latter much attention, scrolling through his phone humming to himself as the others in the room settled down. Seungkwan came in, still whining about losing the card game, and Joshua followed on his heels, eyes sleepy. Jihoon wished them a good night under his breath, noting how they both waved to their respective camera before settling down. Seungkwan was snoring within the minute, his arms splayed on the pillow above his head, the blanket already wrapped around his legs as if he had been tossing and turning for hours. Joshua was awake for a few moments, trying to read something on his phone but with the way his head bobbed and his hand slumped every few seconds, Jihoon figured he wouldn’t last much longer. 

 

The minutes past, and Jihoon was pretty sure he was the last one awake. The lights were dim, and the soft ambient sounds of the others twisting and turning usually would be enough to lull him to sleep, but he couldn’t. There was a nagging feeling in his gut as he rolled from side to side, trying to will himself to fall asleep. They’d have an early start that morning, and he had been selected to go fishing for food that day- he couldn’t afford to run on little sleep.

 

Next to him, Minghao whimpered beneath his blanket and turned, a soft grumbling sound erupting through the relative silence. Jihoon suppressed an endearing chuckle, looking over at Minghao. Several more disturbed sounds rattled through the night, Minghao’s stomach churning and bubbling. He frowned, reaching over to touch the mass beneath the blanket, but the latter sat upright before he could touch him. Minghao looked around with shaky, wide eyes. Even in the low light, Jihoon could see the faint distress in his features.

 

He reached over and gently prodded at his forehead, pushing aside his bangs. “Your tummy’s talkative tonight, Hao,” he said with a smile in his words. “You feeling okay?”

 

Minghao just hummed, offering Jihoon a nod, but he leaned his forehead into his hand, sighing with slight relief. This caused Jihoon to frown. His skin was hot- much too hot, and he could feel just how sweaty he was. The island was so cold, and there was no way he should naturally be sweating this much. He leaned over and tugged at the sleeves of Minghao’s sweater, pushing them up to his elbows. “Minghao?”   
  
“I don’t…” Minghao paused, his eyes blowing wide. The gurgling in his stomach escalated to a new level, and he held his breath, the pain of the cramps increasing tenfold in a sudden burst. He moaned pathetically, curling over and clutching at his gut as the new wave hit him. The burning in his throat returned, gurgling up in a harsh burp that shook through his whole body. Jihoon had his hand on Minghao’s back, rubbing it in circles and whispering something that Minghao didn’t understand.   
  
Jihoon’s hand moved from his forehead to his stomach, trying to pry away Minghao’s hand and press against his gut. “Your stomach?” he inquired, pushing himself close to the latter’s side. “You gotta talk to me, Hao. What’s going on?”

 

He wanted to give Jihoon an answer, he really did, but with each breath he felt the bile creeping further and further up the back of his throat, burning with an unreleased sob caught in his chest. He was terrified to open his mouth, leaving him trembling in Jihoon’s arms, who just stared at him with horror. 

 

“I’m.. Do you want me to get Jeonghan?” he whispered, keeping his hand against Minghao’s stomach as it seemed to soothe him. He wasn’t equipped to deal with a sick member; he didn’t think any of them were in this kind of situation, but if anyone was going to keep a cool head, it would be Jeonghan.

 

Minghao let out a closed-mouth whimper before nodding, and Jihoon left the room so fast it almost gave him whiplash. He was left alone to cradle his aching gut, the nausea building up, and with each burp he could  _ taste  _ the rice he had a few hours before. He bit on his blanket, the pain wracking through his body, in an attempt not to wake any other members. It was bad enough Jeonghan and Jihoon were involved, but if Seungkwan or Joshua woke up, he’d be done for. 

 

He just felt so  _ bad _ ; everything ached, and it was like his entire digestive system was set to kill him from the inside out. Each breath brought a new onslaught of pain that left him sweaty and restless. He stood from where he was lying down, his stomach disagreeing with the effect of gravity, but he started pacing regardless. He was starting to panic, the gradual but blinding cramps in his abdomen driving him to hysterics, his breath hitching in his chest as he struggled to keep his composure. He had broken bones before, and he never quite felt a pain like this. It was a pain that never went away- a pain that seized his entire insides and was an act of his organs working against him. It was suffocating; he could never fully take a deep breath in before a new wave of cramps came to torture him. He kept pacing, his hands curled up in the front of his sweater as he panted, willing away the tears that threatened to build up. 

 

There was suddenly hands on his shoulder, and his met with Jeonghan’s. They were sleep, but filled with concern that sent a cold shiver down his spine. Minghao stood there, panting, as Jeonghan held him at an arm’s length, looking him over. The hand on his shoulder pulled him into the elder’s chest, and Minghao let it, smothering his nose into the crook of Jeonghan’s neck, allowing the warmth to ease his involuntary shudders. 

 

“Jihoon, cover up those cameras with something,” he heard Jeonghan whisper. Jihoon scurried away and grabbed his own pillow, placing it in front of Camera A before going back for his coat, using it to cover Camera B. He knew the directors would be angry the next day when they found out, but for the sake of Minghao’s privacy in this moment, he knew Jeonghan made the right choice.

 

Jeonghan turned his attention back to Minghao, who started feeling restless in Jeonghan’s arms. Another wave of pain hit him and he seized up, his toes curling and his breath hot against Jeonghan’s neck. “Minghao,” he heard the elder whisper against the side of his head, a hand moving to press against the back of his head, holding him securely. “Tell me what’s going on, baby.”

 

Jeonghan never called him that, yet it was a word completely out of affection. Because no, Minghao wasn’t a baby, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be babied once in a while. Jeonghan was the only one who was particularly good at it, in his own way. He was never this caring and motherly outwardly, but Minghao was grateful he was. It was comforting having such a presence holding him, pressing his lips against his sweaty temple and rocking him in his arms.

 

Minghao wished he could’ve given the elder a proper answer, his head reeling as the nausea made him feel like he had cotton stuffed in his mouth. He only shook his head, curling up against Jeonghan with a whimper as his stomach let out a deep rumble, as if it was some kind of demon inside of him. He felt something shift inside him, his stomach burning with bile and suddenly lurching-

 

He couldn’t give Jeonghan a warning, the bile rushing up his throat before he could do much else but take a step away, his stomach giving a heave as he bent over, vomiting at Jeonghan’s feet. Chunks of rice and stomach acid bubbled up through his throat and hit the floor. He wheezed, the force of the heave nearly throwing him off balance. Jihoon rushed over and grabbed his arms from behind to keep him from falling into the pile of vomit.

 

Jeonghan took a surprised step back, some of the bile splattering onto the hem of his shirt and his pant leg, but he really couldn’t be disgusted by it. The worry for the sick boy in front of him overcame any impulse to run away.”Oh god,” Jeonghan whispered, looking at the bile before turning his eyes to Minghao. He whimpered, the wave passing as he stood there, hunched over and gasping, before the horror settled upon him. “I’m sorry,” Minghao whispered, his voice hoarse.

 

Jihoon kept his hands on him, turning his head as he heard sheets behind him stir. He met Joshua’s eyes, still sleepy and swollen as he looked at the scene in confusion. “What’s going on?” he whispered.

 

Jeonghan didn’t pay Joshua any mind, instead taking Minghao by the shoulders and forcing him through the room. “Let’s get you to the bathroom,” he insisted, leading him gently over the threshold before finally making it into the bathroom. Minghao didn’t waste a second, collapsing in front of the toilet, hugging the base of the porcleain bowl as he ducked his head inside, whimpering with agony.

 

Carefully, Jeonghan pulled the sweater up over his head, tossing it into the shower. His pants were still slightly stained, but he could deal with that later. He knelt beside Minghao, working the heel of his hand in between his shoulder blades, trying to get the younger to loosen up. Being so tense and worked up while sick wasn’t going to be helping him at all, but Jeonghan could understand that very little was worse than violent vomiting. Minghao, for the next few minutes, gave dry heaves, spit dribbling from his bottom lip. There wasn’t much coming up, but Jeonghan knew he wasn’t done yet. Jeonghan got up from where he kneeled beside Minghao and grabbed a hand towel, running it under hot water before wringing it out and returning to the sickly boy’s side. He pressed the cloth to his mouth first, wiping away the remnants of vomit and sweat.

 

“Our little fairy is sick, huh?” he mumbled to himself, setting the cloth to the side and taking Minghao’s nape in his hand, rubbing at the hot skin. “You’re okay…”

 

“I’m sorry, hyung,” Minghao whispered, turning his glance to look at Jeonghan miserably, effectively breaking his heart. “I don..wanna get you sick.”   
  
“No need for apologies, baby,” Jeonghan cooed, pushing his hair out of his face. “It happens, it’s okay to be sick sometimes. You just gotta let me take care of you okay?”   
  


Minghao didn’t offer a response, leaning into Jeonghan’s touch as he caressed his forehead. The cool hand against his skin felt nice, and he hummed with content. The nausea hadn’t really died down quiet yet, nor had the cramping in his stomach, but he felt slightly more settled now that he had gotten something out of his system. He sat on the bathroom floor, shivering as he clutched to the toilet bowl in fear of another wave surprising him. Jeonghan’s hands were on him, gently prying his hands away. “I can’t let you sleep with your head against a toilet seat,” he chided gently. “Let’s get you back to bed, okay? You can sleep with me so you’re close to the bathroom if you need it.”

 

The boy let out a miserable whine and tried grabbing at the toilet again. “I’m not...done,” he murmured. If the constant gurgling of his stomach meant anything, his digestive tract was still out for blood, and he already felt so ashamed about the mess in the bedroom that he didn’t want to risk throwing up anywhere else. 

 

“For now, you are,” Jeonghan assured, prying him away again and managing to get him upright. “Lying down might help. Don’t be so stubborn. For me, okay?”   
  


Minghao sniffed, reaching up to wipe at his eyes which had been watering the entire time. He allowed Jeonghan to lead him from the room after he flushed the toilet, heading directly for Jeonghan’s pile of blankets a few feet away from Seungcheol, who was still sleeping soundly. Jeonghan considered waking him for a moment, but figured that if the night continued the way it began, he’d need him awake and alert later. He helped Minghao settled down, slipping him into his covers and leaving a peck on the top of his head. The younger stirred, uncomfortably rolling onto his side as he clutched at his stomach. Jeonghan frowned and swiped his hand through Minghao’s hair.    
  
“Try to sleep,” he urged. “Just for a little bit. You need to rest.”

 

The younger gave no kind of resistance, which Jeonghan was grateful for. He curled up into a ball, clutching Jeonghan’s blanket and pressing it to his nose. The scent of his hyung calmed his nerves a bit, as did said-hyung’s hands raking through his hair. His stomach seemed to calm for the moment, a gross taste still stinging his mouth and throat, but the pain eased to a dull ache that he was able to tolerate. He closed his eyes, cuddling the blanket close, and focused on his breathing, trying to shove the nausea down and resist the urge to fall back into his panicked state.

 

As Jeonghan watched Minghao slightly relax, the tension leaking from his shoulders, he sighed in relief and stood to check on Jihoon and Joshua. He knew he left abruptly, and that it left Joshua just as worried as he had been, but he had to get Minghao over a toilet, and he was sure the younger would want to be away from more prying eyes than he was already under. He turned the corner into Minghao’s room to find that the pile was already gone, and Joshua was crouched on the floor, wearing a pair of their dish gloves and cleaning up any stray marks on the floor. 

 

“Thank you,” Jeonghan whispered, sitting next to Jihoon as he ran a hand through his hair. Joshua looked up at him, eyes soft and glazed with unshed tears. Seeing him like that made Jeonghan’s heart ache, but he knew he was just concerned for their dongsaeng.

 

The latter shook his head. “You don’t have to thank me.” Joshua stood, pulling the gloves off and throwing them directly in the garbage. He returned, looking at the ground to make sure he didn’t miss anything. “Is he okay?”   
  


Jeonghan let out a sigh and gave Joshua a shrug. “Poor thing’s sick as a dog. He’s running a fever, but I don’t know how high”   
  
“We don’t have anything here?” Jihoon mumbled, glancing at Jeonghan.

 

“I didn’t think to pack my medicine when we were forced to shove our belongings in plastic bags,” Joshua mumbled, and it was the first time Jeonghan heard his voice so venomous in a very long time. He stood up and grabbed Joshua’s upper arm, regarding him with soft eyes. 

 

“Hey,” he said. “It’s okay. No one expected this to happen.” He didn’t like seeing Joshua on edge like that, but then again, he was pretty sure none of their members had been this sick before. Especially in these circumstances.

 

Joshua didn’t respond to him, instead reaching up to hastily wipe at his eyes. Waking up to your dongsaeng vomiting on the ground in the middle of the night was one of the worst feelings Joshua could say he ever had. His heart ached for Minghao, and he was angry the latter hadn’t said anything until it got this bad. He knew he wasn’t feeling well with how withdrawn he was at dinner, but Joshua had been an  _ idiot  _ and said nothing.   
  
“You’re blaming yourself, stop it,” Jeonghan whispered, giving his arm a light slap to gain the younger’s attention. “I know that face you make. Minghao will be fine. You know he is- he wouldn’t tell us if he got hit by a car.”   
  
“But why?” Joshua mumbled, looking defeated. “Why doesn’t he trust us? Are we not good hyungs?”

 

Jeonghan shook his head and hooked an arm around Joshua’s neck, looking him in the eye. “Stop it,” he urged. “He’s just a stubborn little thing. He doesn’t want to burden us, I think. That’s all. Right now, we just have to worry about making him feel better. That’s all we can do, right?”   
  
Nodding, Joshua fell silent and relaxed under Jeonghan’s touch. There was so much Jeonghan could do in one night, and balancing a sick Minghao and a guilt-ridden Joshua was something he could not do tonight. He had enough to worry about, and not to mention that they’d have to be up and ready to prepare for the day ahead in about four hours. It was almost two in the morning, and while Jeonghan wanted to contact the manager, he knew he probably wouldn’t be awake to accept his call. But it was worth a shot.

 

“Can you call our manager for me?” he asked Jihoon, who promptly ran to the landline on the other side of the room, kneeling in front of it, dialing his number. 

  
The three sat in tense silence as they stared at Jihoon’s back, waiting for their manager to pick up the phone, but, as Jeonghan expected, no one picked up. Jihoon placed the phone back on the hook, glancing back at the two with a defeated expression. He stood, wrapping his arms around himself as he look at the clock, worry and exhaustion wearing him down. “What do we do?” he piped.

 

“We’ll have to wait it out,” Jeonghan whispered, looking at the clock as well. Time seemed to be stopped, each minute feeling like an hour. “Why don’t you and Joshua head back to sleep? There’s no reason all three of us should be up.”   
  
“But, hyung, aren’t you tired?” Jihoon piped, looking at him curiously. Yes, Jeonghan was tired, but nothing rivaled his urge to help and protect Minghao. The last thing he wanted was for the kid to stay awake all night in misery and refuse to wake anyone else up to help him. He wouldn’t give Minghao the option to handle it by himself, and he wasn’t even sure he’d be able to sleep knowing the younger’s state regardless. 

 

“I need to stay up to keep an eye on Hao,” he said. “Incase he gets sick again.”

 

Joshua frowned at him. “Are you sure? I can stay up with you,” he pried.

 

Jeonghan smiled at him fondly. “I’m sure. Besides, no offense but you’re not exactly the eomma hyung. That’s my job.”   
  


“I take full offense,” Joshua grumbled, but he turned to return to his bed regardless, knowing fighting with Jeonghan over one of the younger members would always turn out to be a loss for him. He didn’t like the idea of Jeonghan staying up all night alone, but both Jihoon and Joshua were assigned to be the fishing team the next morning and they needed all the rest they could get. Joshua asked that Jeonghan wake him if anything happened or took a turn for the worst, which Jeonghan promised him he would.

Jihoon returned to bed as well, wishing Jeonghan goodnight before curling up on his side, looking at Minghao’s empty bed. He wished the latter could come back, so Jihoon could lie beside him and keep an eye on him, but he figured Jeonghan was smart to keep him close to the bathroom. 

 

Jeonghan returned to his room, grabbing a plastic bowl from the kitchen before placing it at Minghao’s feet. It was a precaution more than anything else. They didn’t exactly have extra blankets, so Jeonghan couldn’t afford Minghao upchucking on his bedding. He crawled to wedge himself between Seungcheol and Minghao, sitting up against the wall and threading a hand through Minghao’s hair. The boy still felt entirely too warm for his liking, but there was little he could do with no fever reducers and no access to a clinic. Perhaps he just needed to sweat out whatever bug was plaguing him, and he’d be fine. But Jeonghan had a sneaking suspicion that there was more going on.

 

^  ^ 

 

Minghao woke up with bile in his mouth and his stomach throbbing with a sudden, suffocating onslaught of cramps. Before he could really register what was happening, there were tears on his cheeks, and he was struggling to breathe through his nose as he tried swallowing down the impending bile. He couldn’t get up- his legs felt like lead beneath the blanket, and he refused to vomit all over himself. He hunched over, grasping at his chest as the cramping pain rippled through his entire body, and he happened to catch sight of the dark blue, plastic bowl sitting at his feet.  _ Thank God.  _

 

He lurched forward and grabbed it with his fingertips, pulling it into his lap. He ducked his head beneath the brim, inhaling the unsettling scent of plastic as he tried to breathe through the wave. Jeonghan was slumped on the wall beside him, dead asleep, and Seungcheol was asleep not too far off. The last thing he wanted to do was wake them with the sounds of his heaving. He wanted to escape to the bathroom, but he was sure he wouldn’t be able to make it in time. 

 

The nausea continued to brew in his gut until he couldn’t swallow the bile back anymore, his lips parting involuntarily as as projectile of bile hit the bowl, quickly filling it up so he couldn’t see the bottom. The pain wasn’t easing up, his chest seizing in painful hiccups and gasps for air as he threw up anything that could’ve been left in him, this throat running raw as clumps of rice and fish splattered into the bowl. The heaving wouldn’t let up, and Minghao was left wheezing and struggling for a deep breath as he cradled the bowl in his hands, hot tears streaming down his cheeks. 

 

He wanted nothing more than to disappear, to escape the misery plaguing his being, but he couldn’t, the pain of each spasm rooting him back in his unfortunate reality. Every muscle in his body ached, there was no doubt he was severely dehydrated with how quickly everything was going through his system, all the fluids left in him dribbling off his lips after each violent heave. 

 

In a brief, childish moment, Minghao wondered if he would die here slumped in a bowl of his own vomit. He never felt worse, and he felt his entire shudder as he struggled to make a decent breath through the never-ending gagging. He wanted Jeonghan, Joshua, Seungcheol- anybody that could help make the pain go away- but he didn’t want to wake him. He seemed he was too late, though, as a hand was on his back, and Jeonghan was now in front of him, reaching forward to support his head so he wouldn’t fall forward into the ball. The elder’s hands were cool and comforting, gently caressing his skin and pushing his hair away. He liked when Jeonghan did that.

 

The elder cradled Minghao’s head in his hands, Seungcheol stationed behind Minghao, rubbing at the small of his back and using his other arm to pat him on the back of his shoulder. Jeonghan woke with a start as soon as he started hear the sobbing, and the guilt possessed him immediately. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but the soundless night and darkness sucked him right in without even realizing it. Seungcheol awoke from the noise as well, joining Jeonghan in a joint-effort to comfort Minghao, whose face was scrunched up and bright red. 

 

“God, I’m so sorry, baby,” Jeonghan whispered, cupping his cheeks and lifted his head gently as the liquid stopped and he was left dry heaving. “Let it out, it’s okay…”

 

Seungcheol looked at Jeonghan from over Minghao’s hunched back, eyes dark and angry. Jeonghan knew he’d be upset if this was happening and he wasn’t informed, but he had just wanted less people involved for Minghao’s sake. Seungcheol was the leader, yes, but he wasn’t as much as a caretaker as Jeonghan was. He was clumsier- more likely to offer uplifting advice than rub someone’s back when they’re vomiting. “Why didn’t you wake me earlier?” he hissed under his breath, as if Minghao wouldn’t be able to hear him if he whispered. “This is serious.”

 

He sighed, not taking his eyes off of Minghao, petting at his cheeks and wiping his tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “Hao’s stressed enough as it is. There isn’t anything we can do but wait.”   
  


“Did you call the manager? He can take him to urgent care,” Seungcheol argued, pausing his ministrations against Minghao’s back which caused the boy to whimper. “We can’t just leave him like this-”   
  


“You think I don’t know that?” Jeonghan whispered harshly, glaring at Seungcheol. “We called him, but he didn’t pick up, and there’s no way we can get medicine on this island with no staff to help us. We just have to  _ wait _ .”

 

Jeonghan didn’t like it either- waiting. He knew Seungcheol was only worried and restless; Minghao being so sick was a very unsettling sight, but there was little in reality they could do for the boy. They had no medicine, not even a fever reducer. The whole situation had him worried sick, and the bowl in Minghao’s shaking hands was almost fully already, the stench burning at his nose. There was so  _ much  _ of it- there was no way the kid could have anything left in his stomach.

 

In the brief, silent lull, Minghao let out a sickly burp and a whimper, ducking his head down. “‘M sorry-” he puffed, struggling to breath through the raw pain in his throat and the churning of his gut. “Sorry I’m sick… didn’t mean to-”

Jeonghan hushed him, nuzzling beside him and kissing his temple, despite how sour and feverish his skin was. “No, baby, don’t apologize,” he said. “Seungcheol’s just worried. You don’t have any control over it.” The words seemed to do little to comfort Minghao, but the latter stayed silent anyway, letting Jeonghan and Seungcheol pet and pamper him as he found the disgusting nausea and churning vibrating throughout his entire body.

 

“He needs some water,” Jeonghan whispered, glancing over to Seungcheol. “Can you grab some?”

 

The leader was up in an instant, and Minghao whimpered at the lost of his warmth against his left side. He also couldn’t stand the thought of ingesting anything- regardless if it was water or not. His body was exit signs all over, bright, unforgiving red that seemed about as stubborn as he was. His stomach had calmed in that one moment, no more liquid gurgling up his throat, and he didn’t want to lose that tiny moment of peace. 

 

“Here, baby,” he said, and Minghao flinched as the rim of a water glass was pushed against his bottom lip. “Drink this.”   
  
He whimpered and pulled away, shaking his head, the mere thought already sending bile up the back of his throat. He pressed a fist against his lips, curling away from Jeonghan as a painful cramp seized his body, his intestines coiling up like a hot, vengeful serpent. He couldn’t fight the burning sensation rising up his throat, and he tried to move- tried to get out of the way because the bowl was just too full and he refused to vomit onto the floor again. Before he could even get himself upright, however, Seungcheol had his arms hooking beneath his armpits, hoisting him up. Minghao tried to swallow the putrid concoction in his mouth as Seungcheol’s sudden lift had it almost bursting from his lips. 

 

He blinked, and he was in front of the toilet, Seungcheol’s hand resting between his shoulder blades. Jeonghan, having followed them closely into the bathroom, started the sink and wet a washcloth with warm water. He knelt by Minghao’s side and set the cloth on the back of his neck, hoping to ease some of the tension he held in his shoulders. 

 

Jeonghan could see how tense he was; his jaw was locked up, face red with effort as he struggled to keep it down. He understood that the kid didn’t want to throw up anymore, afterall it was disgusting and painful, but holding it in would only prolong his misery. He tilted his head to look at Minghao, heart aching. He reached up and pet at his head, noting the way the latter leaned into the touch. “You gotta let it out,” he assured. “You’ll only feel worse if you hold it back in.”

 

Minghao let out a shaky whimper and sniffed, leaving Jeonghan fighting tears of his own. He continued to stare into the toilet bowl, swallowing every second to delay the inevitable. “I’m so tired, hyung-” he whispered, voice so broken and hoarse. “I feel so sick. I don’t wanna feel sick anymo-”

 

He couldn’t even finish his sentence before he was curling over the toilet, a new rush of bile slipping past his lips and filling the toilet bowl. These wretches were heavier and thicker, leaving Minghao choking and wheezing in a way that severely startled Jeonghan. He stared at Minghao with wide eyes as Seungcheol hit his back, trying to get whatever was choking the kid to come out. Minghao sobbed around his own attempts to breath, suffocating himself even further. Jeonghan wrapped his arms around his waist and hoisted him up onto his feet, eliciting a surprised moan from Minghao. He kept his head bent over the toilet boy, Jeonghan pushing his head down by his nap and having him standing so his chest and knees were close. “I know it’s uncomfortable,” he cooed. “But it’ll help empty you out. Just try to calm down.”

 

Minghao was far from calming down, his hands reaching down to balance himself on his knees, chest heaving in breathless hitches as he seemed to be drowning in his own bile. Jeonghan was shocked- unsure how much the kid could actually have left in him, but it seemed to come with a vengeance regardless. 

 

He could tell Seungcheol was getting antsy, standing behind Minghao with his hands against his back, rubbing circles into his lower back and shoulder blades. He was losing his patience- unsure why they weren’t prepared for some kind of situation like this, why Minghao had to suffer a sleepless, miserable life because the staff wanted a laugh and cast them away here. “That’s it,” he hissed, shaking his head, the stress evident in his eyes. “If you throw up one more time, we’re going to the hospital!”   
  
The outburst certainly wasn’t helpful, and Seungcheol felt nothing short of a jerk after he said it. They weren’t rational to begin with- there was no way they could get Minghao to a hospital on their own, especially on this island. Before he could wallow in his choice of words for too long, Jeonghan found his voice and shot him an understanding but fierce look. “Seungcheol, can you step out?” he mumbled. “It’s not you...it’s just…”

 

He understood. It was embarrassing for the kid, and more eyes on him was probably the last thing he wanted. He was no good at comforting, despite how much he wished he was, but he figured leaving Minghao in Jeonghan’s hands would be the smartest move. He left, heading to the landline in the other room so he could try to call the manager again. 

 

As Seungcheol shut the bathroom door, Jeonghan turned his attention back to Minghao. The vomiting spell at stopped, at least for a moment, so he helped lead Minghao back to the floor, the younger latching onto the toilet like a koala. Jeonghan smiled weakly at him after flushing the toilet, reaching up to play with his earrings. “I know you feel like crud,” he said. “I know you’re tired, baby. You just have to hold on a little bit longer.”

 

“I don’t...wanna hold on longer,” he whispered, shaking his head. “I’m tired.”

 

“I know,” Jeonghan cooed, letting his head rest on Minghao’s shoulder as he rubbed firm circles into his back, unsure how else he could help his ailing dongsaeng. “We’re gonna try to call the manager again. He should take you to urgent care, and they can take really good care of you there.”   
  
“Are you coming?” Minghao asked, his demeanor so childlike and small that it physically shook Jeonghan to his core. His heart broke, but he couldn’t find it in his heart to lie to the boy either.

 

Jeonghan swallowed. “I don’t think I can, baby,” he said. “We have to be here for filming, but I can ask manager-hyungnim when I talk to him, okay?” He wished he could go with Minghao, be there for support and to make sure he truly got the treatment and care he needed, but he also couldn’t deny his responsibility for the other members. Seungcheol was one to worry chronically, and if he left him in charge for the day, the filming would surely be a mess. He supposed Joshua could handle things well, but the man was gentle, and there would be no doubt his heart would be hurting if Jeonghan wasn’t there to help. The filming needed him, the other members needed him, but he wanted to think that Minghao needed him the most- going to an unknown care center and being isolated from friendly faces. Sure, the manager would be there, but it wouldn’t be the same as having an older brother there. 

 

“I want you to come,” Minghao murmured, and he was beginning to sound calmer. “But if you can’t...it’s okay.”   
  
Jeonghan lifted his head, smiling at the dongsaeng and nuzzling his forehead against Minghao’s temple. “You’re too mature for your age, you know?”

 

^ ^

 

It was around four in the morning that the manager finally called them back. He was frantic, apologizing to Jeonghan for not accepting their call earlier and demanding to know what had happened. Jeonghan explained the situation, glancing over his shoulder every other minute to make sure Minghao was still okay where he was bundled up in Jeonghan’s sheets. The younger had been up at least three more times that night, either rushing to the bathroom and locking Jeonghan out, or vomiting in the trash can that Jeonghan brought over. Jeonghan stayed awake with him every minute of it, no matter how much his eyes wanted cave in and succumb to sleep. 

 

Seungcheol went back to sleep around three in the morning after Jeonghan practically begged him to. Joshua woke up then, too, and kept Jeonghan company as they waited outside the bathroom door, waiting for Minghao to come out. And Joshua was awake with him now, sitting with Minghao and making sure the boy was alright while Jeonghan talked to the manager. Once he explained everything to the manager with exasperation, he promised to be other there within the hour with medicine, and that he would take him to urgent care. When he asked if he could go along, the manager declined, insisting that he stay to film the next episode of One Fine Day. Jeonghan wanted to curse- the show wasn't nearly as important, which for a moment he considered selfish. He was idol, and he was supposed to please his fans. But this was his younger brother, a member of his team, and he didn’t want to just leave him alone. 

 

Regardless, he thanked the manager and hung up the phone, creeping over Seungkwan and Dokyeom who were still fast asleep, heading back over to Joshua and Minghao. “Is he okay?” he inquired as he returned, sitting down on the other side of the sick boy. 

  
“He’s sleeping,” Joshua said, his hand resting on Minghao’s stomach, and the boy was holding his hand in place, seemingly content with the position. “So I guess that’s something. What did the manager say?”

 

“He’s coming by within the hour,” he said, dropping his head in his hands. “God, I’m so tired.” 

 

“You did a good job,” Joshua mumbled. “Taking care of him. None of us could do it the same as you. You deserve a break.”

 

“We’ve got filming today, Shua,” he argued, glancing down at Minghao as he shifted, but relatively remained undisturbed. “I wish I could go to urgent care with him.”   
  
Joshua frowned, looking down at Minghao as well. “I know, but...they’ll take care of them. You part is over. We can’t do anything else from here.”

 

The manager kept his word and he did arrive within the hour. He was disheveled and drowning with worry, and he made his entrance to pick up Minghao as the others started to stir, rising for the morning. Seungkwan woke up first, a bit puzzled to see their manager standing in the kitchen talking to Jeonghan in a hushed voice. He climbed out of his blanket burrito he made for himself and staggered into the kitchen, eyes swollen with exhaustion. He finally noticed Minghao, who was leaning heavily against Jeonghan as he led him towards the door.    
  
“What’s going on?” he asked, fearful of the sudden and foreign situation. “Minghao?”   
  
“He’s been sick all night,” Joshua explained, moving to lead Seungkwan back into the bedroom, not wanting him to wake the others just yet. “He’s taking him to urgent care.”

  
Seungkwan looked like he was about to be sick himself, blinking at the doorway where Jeonghan, Minghao, and the manager disappeared. Minghao looked so  _ weak  _ and tired, and the sight struck a horrible fear in his stomach. His eyes were already springing with fresh tears, his breath caught in his throat. “What happened, though?” he blubbered. “Is he okay? What’s wrong with him?”   
  
Joshua wrapped an arm around Seungkwan’s shoulders, instantly noticing the singer’s distress. He hugged him tightly into his side, offering the slightest bit of comfort. “I think he might have food poisoning, but we won’t know until he gets back. We just have to go through filming today without him.”

 

“What? Food poisoning?” Seungkwan insisted, eyes wide. He put a hand on Joshua’s chest and pushed him away. “Isn’t that really serious…? Was it my bad kimchi? Or maybe the vegetables weren’t washed- or maybe the fish wasn’t-”

 

“Seungkwan, really, calm down,” Joshua interjected, giving the younger a firm look. “We don’t know what it is, but we’ll be really careful tonight just in case, alright? We just...have to pretend like nothing’s wrong. You know, for the cameras.”

 

That seemed to solidify it for him, because Seungkwan only nodded, sparing a glance to the open door before moving to get ready for the day. Joshua couldn’t blame him for being so worried-  he hadn’t even seen the fits Minghao threw overnight, his chest heaving so much that he couldn’t get a proper breath in. Joshua barely slept, listening to Minghao’s retching and Jeonghan’s soft words of comfort. All he could do now was get through today, keeping up an entertaining facade for the cameras and play along with whatever mean games the staff wanted to play on them that day. He just prayed that they wouldn’t include any possible footage of Minghao’s rough night in the final cut. Not that he thought they would, but the fear that something could be released had him too tense to simply let it pass. 

  
Jeonghan returned, his face sunken, and he closed the front door behind him. “He’s on the boat,” he said. “I think the ride will be hard for him, but manager-hyungnim brought enough plastic backs I think.”

  
“God, Shua, it was...so hard seeing him like that. He’s usually so playful and competitive, but last night he was just… a child.”

  
He gnawed at his lip, wanting to reach out and comfort Jeonghan, but knowing perhaps it wasn’t the best move to make. The latter was exhausted, and looked about as stressed as a mother bear who’s cubs went missing. Joshua wasn’t really in the mood to get mauled at the moment.   
  
“Sickness will do that to you,” he said. “But Hao’s a strong kid. He always bounces back. I know this seems bad, but the hospital will give him fluids, figure out what’s wrong, and hopefully he can get some rest.”   
  
Jeonghan nodded, not finding much strength within himself to respond. He was Joshua was there, or he would’ve just about lost his mind. The others were all starting to stir and get ready, Jihoon and Soonyoung singing something together under their breath as they went to the bathroom to brush their teeth. 

 

“Hyung, why is your sweater in the shower?” Soonyoung called, walking out with the black fabric in his hands, looking confused.    
  
“Ah-! Don’t  _ touch it! _ ” He rushed forward, snatching the fabric from his hands and holding onto it with two fingers, looking for the splotches of vomit that Minghao left on the sweater. 

 

Soonyoung looked at Jeonghan as if he had bitten his hand off, retreating a few steps. “But..you’re just wearing a t-shirt. Isn’t that cold? Why was it in the shower?”

 

“Minghao got sick last night,” he sighed. “Threw up on me, and it got on my sweater. I must’ve forgot I threw it in the shower.”   
  


A flash of concern crossed Soonyoung’s face at the words. “Minghao’s sick? Where is he?” Then he looked down at his hands, realizing what he just touched.  _ “Euck!”  _ He rushed back into the bathroom scrubbing his hands. 

 

^ ^

 

When Minghao returned, it was a few hours past dinner time, and Jeonghan, Seungcheol, and Joshua were wide awake, gathered in the kitchen while hoping that any second, Minghao would come through the door. Soonyoung had most of the others lined up outside, doing these silly interviews they included with each episode. He, understandably, pardoned the hyung-line from participating as they anxiously anticipated Minghao’s return. It was far too soon for Jeonghan’s liking- he thought the latter should be resting for days in the hospital, on fluids, before considering coming back, but with the tight filming schedule and a presumably good prognosis, the manager assured Minghao would be back that night.

 

Jeonghan felt like he was about to drop, his body aching with a type of exhaustion he hadn’t really experienced before as an idol. Is this how mothers felt when their teenage son stayed out past curfew? Jeonghan was still in his twenties, and really didn’t want to be having these parental struggles, just yet, but when you’re one of the oldest of thirteen, he supposed it comes naturally. 

 

The side door opened, and Jeonghan nearly choked on his glass of water. The manager came through, an arm threaded over Minghao’s shoulders, leading him over the threshold. Jeonghan shoved the water in Seungcheol’s hand before rushing over, his hands dancing over the front of Minghao’s jacket, checking him over fretfully. The boy simply hummed in disagreement, pushing Jeonghan’s hands away. Jeonghan noticed a bandage on the back of Minghao’s hand and his heart dropped.   
  
“They gave him an IV at the hospital,” the manager excused, keeping an arm around Minghao to make sure he was doing alright. “Said it was most likely ciguatera fish poisoning.”   
  
“That doesn’t sound good,” Joshua mumbled, shuffling his feet as he looked over Minghao in fear.    
  
The manager shrugged. “They told me it’s like other food poisonings, but it’s a toxin found only in specific fish who have ingested it. He’s going to feel lousy for a few days, and we have a strict diet of water, powerade, and crackers.”

  
“Yeah, we can easily get that casted away on an island,” Seungcheol bit before he could stop himself.

 

The manager only smiled. “Well, just for you, I went shopping.” He handed Jeonghan two plastic bags. One containing two boxes of saltines and three or four gatorades, the second full of a bottle of tylenol, anti-diarrheals, and a few other medicines that Jeonghan didn’t quite recognize. “I’m going to stay on the island for the next night or two, so don’t hesitate to call to me if something happens.”

  
“We will,” Joshua promised before bowing to the manager. “Thank you so much.”   
  


The man shrugged, patting Minghao on the shoulder and pushing him gently toward Jeonghan who instantly took him into his arms, kissing him on the top of the head. 

 

“Hyung, I’m not a baby,” Minghao mumbled, trying to struggle out of his arms, but Jeonghan kept his hold tight.    
  
“Maybe,” he hummed. “But you’re my baby.”


End file.
